The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Terence, “she is ours!” At that moment the squall had reached the chase, and away flew her studding-sails, the booms breaking off at the irons. Still she held on her course. The corvette was now rapidly gaining on her; the attempt was made to rig another lower studding-sail, but that also was carried away almost as soon as set, and in less than half an hour the corvette had got her well within range of her long guns; but Murray refrained from firing as long as he found that he was gaining on her.

“It is useless to run the risk of injuring her spars,” he observed to Adair; “she will haul down her colours when she finds that she has no hope of getting away.”

“Those fellows are up to all sorts of dodges, and will make every effort to escape,” said Terence.

“We will take in the studding-sails at all events, and be ready for him should he haul his wind,” said Murray. The light canvas was taken in with a rapidity, which must have astonished the crew of the slaver. Just, however, as the operation was about to be commenced, she had put her helm to port, and braced her yards sharp up on the starboard tack; but a couple of shot from the corvette, one of which struck her starboard quarter, showed her that she was too late; and fearing that other iron missiles might overtake her, she immediately hauled down her colours. The corvette’s topgallant sails and royals having been handed, she also was brought to the wind and hove-to on the weather beam of the prize. Murray now directed Adair to go on board the brigantine with a midshipman and ten hands, and to carry her to Rio, unless, from a scarcity of provisions or want of water, he should find it necessary to put in to Bahia, or any other neighbouring port on the Brazilian coast.

Adair and Desmond were quickly ready with their carpet-bags, as were Snatchblock and nine other men with their bundles, and the boat which had, meantime, been lowered, pulled off for the prize, although there was some sea on; yet as she was low in the water, she was easily boarded. She proved to be the Donna Maria, a noted Brazilian slaver which had often before escaped capture. According to Murray’s directions, Adair sent back the captain and officers and some of her ill-looking crew, who were likely to prove troublesome if left in her.

He found that, though only measuring a hundred and fifty tons she had nearly five hundred slaves on board, stowed away as thick as they could be packed between decks.

Having had a remarkably quick run from the coast of Africa, the captain informed him that he had not lost more than twenty people. As he looked down the main hatchway, the haggard countenances of the mass of human beings packed close together—as Desmond observed, like herrings in a cask—showed him that had the voyage continued much longer, the number of deaths would have been greatly increased.

Although there was food enough and water for the slaves, either the crew had hove overboard some of their own provisions, or had brought but a small supply, so that Adair found but a scant allowance for himself and his men; he therefore sent on board the corvette for such articles as he thought would be required. Just as all arrangements had been completed, and he had put the brigantine on her course, he saw the corvette haul her wind, and stand away to the eastward. As she did so, Murray signalised that a strange sail, which he hoped to overhaul, had hove in sight in that direction.

A sufficient number of the slaver’s crew had been kept on board to attend to the unfortunate blacks, and carry them their provisions and water. Adair himself went round among them, and endeavoured to make them understand that he was their friend, and that as soon as possible they should be sent back to Africa. At first they looked on the Englishmen with an expression of terror in their countenances, many of them believing that they would be taken on shore to be killed and eaten, or to be offered up to the white man’s Fetish. Fortunately one of the seamen, who had been long on the coast, could make himself understood by some of them; and, by his means and kind treatment, Terence succeeded at length in banishing their fears. One of the Brazilians also spoke a little English, and so was able to act as interpreter. Pedro was a better-looking fellow than most of his companions, and by the kind way he treated the blacks Terence was inclined to trust him. He declared that poverty alone, and a wish to support his family, had induced him to ship on board the slaver, and that it was the last voyage he would ever make.

“These countrymen of mine are great rascals,” he observed; “you take care what they do, or they play you one great trick.”